


Bye Bye Blackbird

by sherbal



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-19 12:55:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16534982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherbal/pseuds/sherbal
Summary: He’s dull, as boring as watching the paint dry. Graves realized this long long time ago. When he was a child, his family was this dull. When he was sent to Ilvermorny, being a good student didn’t free him from this dullness. After graduation and working as an associate in the president’s office, it became even duller.





	1. The usual end for an unusual year

**Author's Note:**

> I just noticed there has been a fic with exactly the same title in the Fantastic Beast community. Luckily, it's not about Credence/Graves. Cheers to the other author! Great to find someone think alike.
> 
> Comments are very appreciated. I'm so detached from the fandom and desperate to know if I'm doing okay.

It didn’t take long for Grindelwald to notice the pale timorous boy across the street whose eyes had been on him for about six minutes after he left Percival Graves’ residence.

 

 _He has a secret admirer._ That made Grindelwald extremely cheerful in this rainy early November.

 

Grindelwald turned his head to give the boy a smile. He had such little time otherwise he’d prefer not to startle his stalker this early.

 

Not surprisingly, the boy froze at the moment then fled.

 

What fun! Grindelwald grinned at his reflections in the windows of a local diner. The face of Percival Graves was smiling back at him.

 

///

 

It was the New Year’s Eve, the last day of the glorious roaring 1926.

 

Eight years had passed since the end of the war, Graves still shuddered thinking about the final days in the western front. He didn’t know why the summer days in June were that cold. The smell of death was hanging in the air all the time. It was almost like soaked into skins that no spells could eliminate it.

 

He was the leader of a small team of Aurors at that time. Not very experienced, just old enough to get the position as a captain. MACUSA was very young. Still very young today, but after the baptism of the war, MACUSA was thriving.

 

Himself, along with hundreds of young unseasoned wizards were sent to France to be trained for a very short time then pushed to the front lines to face the real enemies.

 

They won in the end.

 

He was the only survivor of his team.

 

Graves poured himself a double Scotch, eased on the soda. It was New Year’s Eve. Everyone deserves letting their hair down a bit.

 

His hair was ruffled by the biting winter wind on the way home. Few strands fell over his eyes. He used the other hand to brush them back when pouring the drink down his throat.

 

He was secretly thankful for the Rum-running business, which was also prohibited by the MACUSA in the underworld of witchcraft. Not that the wizarding community in America has strong opinions against abusing beers and wines, it’s just that alcohol is an essential ingredient to the illegal Imperius potion, same effect with the Imperius curse, only far more undetectable. This potion caused great trouble during the wartime. Many were drugged and manipulated by the enemy under the effect of this newly-invented potion. The MACUSA wanted to control the mass production of it and lobbied the Congress to approve a resolution to submit a constitutional amendment on nationwide prohibition to the states for ratification. It clearly was not a permanent solution but it worked, at least for a while.

 

Though capable of many things No-majs can’t even dream of, the wizards do need to rely on No-majs and productions they make to survive. The problem with the wizarding community internationally is that there are so few of them compared to the whole wide population of No-majs. The offspring of wizards may not have magical talent while the children of No-majs that have it are extremely rare. Therefore, the wizarding community is always on the brink of struggling to survive.

 

The New Year’s office party was probably still going on. The madame president told a typical “two wizards walk into a bar” joke and everyone laughed awkwardly after. Graves left early. Everyone was paying him some extra attention after his return. It was as if he would turn into Grindelwald again all of a sudden. Mercy Lewis! Grindelwald was locked away in Halls of Justice in lower Manhattan waiting for his trail. But people still can’t get rid of the impression thatGraves is dangerous. Dangerous or incompetent. The Director of Magical Security fell into Grindelwald’s hand and divulged tons of highly confidential information to the unruly criminal. He became a joke. It was lucky enough he wasn’t sacked the moment he was rescued in his apartment.

 

While he loosened his shirt collar, the black bird that was perching on his windowsill flew out of the window into the cold night sky. The noises of happy new year from the radio saw it off.


	2. What got him through the cold winter nights

Graves would normally save some bread to feed the pigeons in the city hall park if the weather’s good. All civil servants, wizard or not, love to spend their lunchtime hanging around in this small pleasant public space, chitchatting, flirting, idling.

 

They used to use pigeons in the park to eavesdrop on No-maj civil servants’ conversations. This project, however, only turned out to be a great waste of money and human resources. The information those pigeons brought back was completely useless. Dozens of MACUSA staff had to endure all the pigeon coo-cooing to make out a small irrelevant sentence about an adultery affair.

 

He bumped into the secretary of labor in the elevator when going down to the lobby. She hesitantly mentioned everyone slightly miss the Grindelwald version of him. Apparently, Grindelwald has better tastes in clothes than him and is clearly a charmer, of which himself is not. Graves was pretty depressed about it. Luckily, they won’t release Grindelwald just for this.

 

He’s dull, as boring as watching the paint dry. Graves realized this long long time ago. When he was a child, his family was this dull. When he was sent to Ilvermorny, being a good student didn’t free him from this dullness. After graduation and worked as an associate in the president’s office, it became even duller.

 

That’s probably the reason why he somehow has friendly feelings to No-majs.It’s a popular opinion in the wizarding community that No-majs are dull creatures that only indulge themselves in lowlife trivial entertainment. From his perspective, they are all people after all. Life always goes on in different ways.

 

///

 

The memory of how he met Mr. Graves was always a fond one that got him through those cold dark nights when it was too painful to fall into sleep.

 

It was a typical Manhattan summer day. He was sent by Ma to hand out those Second Salem leaflets in the Union Square. The vicious sunlight was piercing his skull. He felt suffocating. The hot airs rushing out of the subway grating on the road even made things worse. He’d give anything for a cold drink.

 

Credence dragged his tongue across the cracked lips. He eyed the Good Humor ice cream truck secretly. There were probably some street kids watching him in the dark. They were sent by Ma to see if any of them is not doing their jobs right. He called them “supervisors” in his head. Those who report bad behaviors of others would be rewarded with an extra piece of bread at dinner. And those get reported would be deprived of their dinner and get whipped upstairs. Somehow, among the kids, they never learned to cooperate. Instead of covering for each other, they all chose to turn against each other.

 

He felt like fainting. It was too hot. He hadn’t eaten anything since last night.

 

No one cared to take even one of his leaflets.

 

He actually didn’t understand why Ma hates witches so much.

 

Of course, he hates witches. That was what Ma told him to.

 

Ma wasn’t his real mother. But he rarely remembered the pale nervous woman that gave birth to him. In his early memory, mother knew magic. She could start a fire in the fireplace with just a snap. That was probably the reason that killed her in that huge fire which made him an orphan. Ma was kind enough to take him in before he was sent to a homeless shelter.

 

Just then, the leaflet he held in his left hand was taken. He looked up to see what kind of person would be interested in Ma’s cause and prepared to give a small speech that Ma made him memorize by heart.

 

It was a man in his early forties. Black hair. Black eyes. Wearing a dark grey suit and matching waistcoat. Looking like a normal passerby he would see every day.

 

“Sir, would you like to know more about our second Salem?” He asked in a small voice.

 

The man gave him a smile and slipped a one-dollar coin into his hand.

 

“Get yourself a coke and watch your 2 o’clock.”

 

The man patted him on the shoulder then left.

 

With surprise, he found his supervisor staring at him behind a tree. Credence gripped the coin hard in his left hand.

 

He suddenly felt no longer thirsty. That was an act of kindness that watered his dry cracked soul like a spring rain. There was just too few of it in his life.

 

Credence turned back, wishing to say a late “thank you”. But the man was nowhere to be found in just a couple seconds.


	3. A stroll in Central Park

Graves broke the whole wheat bread into pieces and tossed them to the crowd of pigeons at his feet. Those hungry little creatures swooped around him, getting loose feathers every where. The cold air was slightly stirred by those golden snitches’ wings.

 

After the army of pigeons scattered and turned to other generous patrons, Graves found a blackbird in front of him. It was small, delicate, almost like a tiny ball of black fire.

 

“Hey, you want some crumbs?”

 

Graves extended his hand to the bird. The little one just stood there staring at him (if birds can stare). It was odd for a bird to keep focused for such a long time.

 

“Mr. Graves. I thought you’d be here.”

 

Graves looked up from the staring contest with the blackbird. Grindelwald was blocking the sun and smiling at him from above.

 

The next thing he knew was that they apparated.

 

///

 

The Central Park is a place that is too good to have anything bad happen.

 

They appeared out of thin air in the woods just behind “the Casino” nightclub. Luckily it’s in the middle of the day and there were few pedestrians on thosewinding paths to notice a cracking whip sound.

 

Before he could draw out his wand that was hidden in his inside breast pocket, Grindelwald gladly did the work for him with just a wave of hand.

 

“Office work makes you slow on these things, my dear.” The villain held Grave’s wand and closely examined it, “Oh I miss it. It’s like a baton. Fine but just a little bit boring, don’t you think?”

 

“What do you want from me? Impersonating me again? You Germans have very little imagination. ”

 

“Don’t try to run, Percival. You know you won’t outrun me. We’ve had a hard time in the lower east side. I don’t have that much time to play for now.” Grindelwald ignored his best insult and hook his right arm around Graves' shoulders. Graves shrugged it off with disgust.

 

“Now, listen, Percival. I know we had a bit see-eye-to-eye.” Grindelwald grabbed his arm and led him onto the pebbled lane. The last snow was days ago and the soil was dry. “But what do you think my cause, really? Just between the two of us. Don’t be shy. Come on. Out with it.”

 

“It’s morally wrong and disgusting. What you’ve done is not for the goods of the magical community. What you’ve done is only to fulfill your personal ambition. It doesn’t matter if the no-majs know about our existence or not. As along as you can be the leader of the ‘free’ magic world, you don’t care even the slightest about the wizards and witches who are suffering under the hunt of the no-majs. You are nothing but a dream-seller, Grindelwald. You neatly pack your banality with exciting words to sell it to anyone who’s either foolish enough to believe you or as rotten as you are, wishing to have a share of your ‘great future’. You try to detach yourself from those chaos-causing maniacs who do evils just for fun. But you’re just like them but with glamorous words and promises. You’re not selling this to me. ” Graves carefully eyed the no-maj passerby around them and trying to generate a plan to alarm the MACUSA aurors. His secretary Miss. Anderson should know he has not returned to his office at this time.

 

“Good to hear someone talking senses. You see, that’s why I want to see you agin before I leave New York. It’s such a great place with clear-headed thinkers like you, Percival. I wish I could stay longer.”

 

They trolled along the path, winter trees blocking most of those high-rise buildings at a distance.

 

“The point is, not everybody thinks like you. What the world doesn’t lack are the fools who will take everything given to him and the ladder-climbers who know exactly what they’re looking for and what they’re willing to pay for it. Life is short. You’ll want to make the most of it. Some people just love the thrills of being the outcast. Now I offer you an opportunity.”

 

“What makes you think there’s even a dimmest chance that I’ll take your offer? MACASA is hunting you down all over the town right now. You won’t stand a chance without your followers. You know that, it’s a bad strategy to recruit someone who will never say yes when you’re supposed to be on the run.”

 

“Worth a try, isn’t it?” Grindelwald let out a showy smile. Graves started to understand why the Sectary of Labour fancies him that much.

 

“Why aren’t you married? You know, girls loved it when I used your face to blow a kiss at them. It’s very difficult to believe a good-looking man at your age remains a bachelor. I was so looking forward to meet your girlfriends, mistresses. Your women. Turned out that there is actually nobody. Haven’t you met the right one, or you prefer living alone like this?”

 

“My private life is of no concerns to you, even though you pretty much knew everything about me after Legilimency.” Graves tried to stall the time. He had to catch Grindelwald this time to save his damaged reputation.

 

“But I prefer to hear it straight from the horse’s mouse. You were very outspoken on my cause. You shouldn’t hold back now. I deeply regret we couldn't have these lovely conversations when we were closer back then. ” Grindelwald toyed with his wand, with no fear that no-majs around could see this.

 

 "Being tied up for five weeks by you didn't make us closer."

 

"Yes, it did. It's heartwarming to have someone to come home to. You must feel the same way. Do you enjoy this bachelor lifestyle? I'm so curious about you. Tell me about it."

 

“Fine, nothing happens to me. Even if there is, I wouldn’t know because I’m too dull, too plain, too busy to notice.I’m sorry, but not everyone’s as ambitious as you, trying to take over the magic world.”

 

“You are the head of the MACUSA law enforcement. Nothing happens to you? You’re too modest, Percival.”

 

“You don’t have to go through elections to be in that position. This is not Britain. My father was the vice president. That’s enough to make me head any department if I don’t die before it’s my turn to take office.”

 

“You’ve had your thrills. You fought in the war. How could you think everything you have right now come so easy? You underestimate yourself, Percival.”

 

“The world, no matter us, or theirs,” Graves gestured at the no-maj families near the lake, “runs on a set pf rules. There are few like you want to break them. Most of us live by them all our lives.”

 

At that moment Grindelwald wanted to say something, both of them saw a group of aurors coming near them in the woods. The president appeared shortly after.

 

Grindelwald kissed him soundly on his left cheek, right in front of the gathering crowd. And whispered to his ears, “Think about my offer and your words today. We’ll meet again.”

 

Grindelwald vanished.

 

Graves’ wand dropped to the ground.

 

The surface of the lake was broken by a gust of wind.


	4. The downtown train to hell

“Credence, my boy, what exactly do you see in this man? ” Grindelwald said to the black-haired boy that was sitting opposite him in this underground mortuary in the Green-Wood Cemetery.

 

“Kindness.”

 

“Hmmm, kindness. Interesting. Do you see kindness in me?” Grindelwald looked carefully at the boy. His eyes were shining in the dark.

 

“I really can’t say, sir.”

 

“I saved your life. I could have easily killed your beloved Percival. But I didn’t. And you really can’t say? Are all these not kind enough?” Grindelwald lighted a small ball of fire just for the fun of it. He moved it from the right hand to the left one then over and over again.

 

“Mr. Grindelwald, if you’re really kind, please leave Mr. Graves out of this. He doesn’t deserve this.” The boy blankly stared at the small green fire in Grindelwald’s hands.

 

“Who can tell what do we all deserve? Do you think you deserve this? Do you think you deserve to be treated like a piece of trash by the woman you once called your mother?Do you think you deserve to be ordered to kill on sight by that ‘president’ without any further inquiries? You should want him on our side. Or else the day will come when he personally hunts you down and ends your life.”

 

Credence went into a long silence.

 

///

 

Graves was having an even harder time than being tied up for five weeks.

 

His reputation, though long gone, had sunk to a whole new level.

 

Dozens of aurors saw he basically walk arm in arm with Grindelwald in the central park like good pals. And the president was there to witness that infamous kiss on his cheek by the evil mastermind.

 

As it turned out, it was not that surprising to find himself suspended. Probably not suspended. The better way to put this is to say he was put on garden leave. Mercy Lewis! This is Manhattan. There are no such things as gardens.

 

His loyalty to MACUSA was suspected and MACUSA did not treat those who appear suspicious kindly.

 

He was not allowed to leave the city, for he had to go through inquisitions twice a week. There were no other ways to regain the lost trust from MACUSA but to do whatever they said.

 

Graves began to spend a lot more time exploring the city. There was usually a small team of Aurors secretly following him from a moderate distance. He began to live with it after realizing this was for the best.

 

He had more time, a lot more than he could take, to digest his conversation with Grindelwald. He knew he just couldn’t buy what the villain was trying to sell. Even the man himself knew it wouldn’t work on Graves. The problem is, why should Grindelwald even try?

 

He sat on one of those wooden benches in the subway under the Time Square. He never took a subway before. Now he had however much time he wanted to closely observe this great invention by the no-majs. It was amazing what they were capable of without the use of magic. Maybe several decades after, no-majs will be even more advanced than the wizards. Then the day of distinction will be closer.

 

The downtown IND A train came in a big booming noice. He wasn’t trying to get in since he was not waiting for any train. He was only sitting there, observing.

 

However, when the doors opened, he saw a blackbird perching on one of the overhead rings inside. It was just like the one he encountered in the city hall park that afternoon.

 

He hopped in just before the door was closed. And saw through the window that the two Aurors that were following him today were at a loss. The train was leaving.

 

When the train got off the station, he turned back from the window and found the people surrounding him were gone. It was just him and the blackbird.

 

“Who are you?” Graves pointed his wand at the bird that was sitting very still above him.

 

“Percival! Good to see you again. Don’t frighten my boy. He’s very shy.” The voice of Grindelwald came behind him. Graves turned and saw the fugitive sitting lazily on one of the leather seats.

 

“Have you considered my offer? I’m sure it looks even more tempting at the moment than before.” Grindelwald stood up.

 

“Come.”The blackbird flew over to him at his order and landed on his left shoulder.

 

“I said I won’t buy this. Why do you even try this with me, Grindelwald? Or are you just trying to ruin me? Congratulations, you succeeded. I don’t even think this worth all your deliberate efforts.” Graves steadied himself against the constant shaking of the train.

 

“Consider this as an act of charity, Percival. Out there in the whole wide world, there are countless skilled wizards that can beat you effortlessly. Why am I not spending that much time on them? I’m sure most of them would be very interested,” Grindelwald patted the bird on the head as if it were a dog, “I see potential in you, Percival. That locked-up hidden energy that was suppressed by yourself, by the norms and rules you’ve always been taught to follow. Don’t you feel powerless to live in a world where you’ve already noticed the irrational morbidness of it? Now I offer you an opportunity to be free.”

 

“You’re selling vague wild dreams again, Grindelwald. If I believe any part of what you’ve just said, I would have shaken your hand in Central Park. I’m of no value to you. Kill me or if you’re really doing charity, let me go.”

 

Grindelwald gave him another of his wide smiles. He had a copy of tomorrow’s New York Ghost in his hand.

 

“You are on the front page, my dear. ‘Wanted, Percival Graves. Director of Magical Security. Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Bearing wand. Extremely dangerous. Blablabla. Reward 5000.’ ” Grindelwald tossed the paper aside. “Now, do you feel a little bit coolness due to the cold hard betrayal of your fellow officers? You were her right-hand man and she doesn’t trust you the slightest. When you said you are dull and plain, you should know you’re not irreplaceable to them.”

 

“That’s all because of you! You ruined me!” Graves shoot a spell at Grindelwald and the criminal waved it away without even trying.

 

“From another perspective, I saved you from your dullness, Percival. Now, something finally happens to you. You should be grateful for this.”

 

“I. Do. Not. Want. It.” With every word, he stepped closer and attacked.

 

Grindelwald finally got bored and came forward and choked Graves with one hand. 

 

“I have to admit, during our pleasant encounter, I did grow quite fond of you. You’re right. I’ve wasted so much of my time on you. I can’t afford more. I’ll ask you one more time. Will you join me?”

 

“No! Kill me.” Graves choked out, dropped his wand and tried to use both of his hands to get Grindelwald’s hand off him.

 

“Killing you would be a mercy. Leave you to your fellows, however, will be worse than death. You can imagine what they would do to you. Even if you’re proved not guilty in the end, you’ll be completely ruined by then.”

 

The train stopped. Graves was sure a crowd of Aurors would be outside waiting.

 

Before he lost consciousness, he vaguely saw the blackbird on Grindelwald’s shoulder started to burn, then he fell into a deep cold darkness.


	5. Rivals are not that different

He blinked once, then twice. He saw shadows of tree branches dancing on the white wall in front of him. The ghost-like moves slowly woke him from this lazy slumber.

He found himself in the medical center for federal prisoners.

 

It didn’t take long for two Aurors to come in and give him the warrant signed by the president.

 

His wand was confiscated before he was sent in. What’s really funny was that he didn’t even want to make a scene.

 

He just felt, well, disappointed.

 

///

 

On the ship to Europe, a gentleman stood on the deck and saw the glamorous city gradually drift away and finally disappear.

 

His manservant quietly stood next to him almost like his humble modest shadow.

 

“You tried to kill me, Credence,” Grindelwald said as-a-matter-of-factly, not even remotely reprimanding.

 

“Yes, sir.” The boy lowered his eyes.

 

“Did you think I would kill Percival Graves? Was this why you tried to stop me?” Grindelwald put his arm around Credence's shoulders.

 

“No, sir. I knew you wouldn’t hurt Mr. Graves.”

 

“Then why?” Grindelwald spoke softly in an almost seductive way.

 

“I knew you let him go only to pull him closer.” Credence squeezed his eyes shut the continued, “He will come for you. But only by entering hell can he meet the real devil. He’s too good to deserve this.”

 

“You just ruined a really good man, Mr. Grindelwald.” Credence looked up to stare at Grindelwald in the eyes.

 

“Do you love him, Credence?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“I do, too. You see. We’re not that different.”

 

“This is not love, sir.”

 

“What do you call it?”

 

“Possessiveness.”

 

Grindelwald laughed to himself.

 

“Aren’t you the same, my boy? I knew what you were thinking when with me as him in those alleys.”

 

Credence looked away to hide the burning emotions in his eyes.

 

“But please don’t see me as a rival. I don’t value physical pleasures very much. What I enjoy the most will be far more fascinating than this.”

 

“I saw you with him.” Credence suddenly said when Grindelwald thought this was the end of the conversation.

 

“I saw you with him, in bed. Before you told me who you really are. Don’t pretend to scorn at physical pleasures, Mr. Grindelwald. You’re right. We are not that different. But I would never do what you did to him. I’d rather burn in hell than drag him into this.”

 

“Very good, Credence. It won’t be long before he joins you.”


	6. "Enhanced interrogation techniques"

They adopted a Pensieve.

 

It was hardly called for, but MACUSA is indeed famous for its dedication to the truth and unique enhanced interrogation techniques.

 

His rights as a government official, an Auror, a wizard, a decent human being sunk along with his reputation into those deep waters in the Hudson River.

 

He really had nothing to hide.

 

Or did he?

 

He’s forty-three years old. He likes fish with red wine. He can sing pretty well but only to himself. He often gets up at six and goes to bed after a long hot bath. He prefers cats to dogs and men to women.

 

He’s an invert.

 

Though New York is the heaven to his kinds, the magical world doesn’t like to bring up this subject. It’s not only magic that was passed from ancestors centuries ago, but the traditional conservative norms and ideologies. 

 

His eccentric uncle Harry, was the black sheep of the family, had his name removed from the family tree. He guessed this thing just runs in the family.

 

He really had no deepest darkest secret. But if he really had to pick one, this was it.

 

But this had nothing to do with Grindelwald. He was very confident about that.

 

Percival Graves didn’t know how wrong he was.

 

///

 

He was tired. After several pieces of his memories taken and added to the dish, the interrogator (Graham Jones, someone he really never liked.) looked into it for a very long time.

 

Graves almost couldn’t feel his wrists with his hands cuffed behind him.

 

There was no clock on the wall so he didn’t know exactly how much time had passed. The only thing he knew was that this was meant to be a complete torture.

 

Then Jones turned back and looked at him with a complicated face. It was a mixture of confusion, disgust, and shock.

 

“Mr. Graves. I…… You……” Jones lost his words. He began to wonder what did that man saw in his memory that could make him so overwhelmed.

 

“The president should know about this.”

 

Jones left in a hurry.

 

The Pensieve was right in front of him. The silver memories of his were swimming in the transparent liquid like lazy eels in a calm peaceful brook.

 

What possibly could Jones find in there that can be turned against him? He had to see it. It’s his memory after all.

 

He rose from the chair and came to the Pensieve.

 

The memories welcomed him with coolness.

 

///

 

“It’s your room. Don’t mind me.” Grindelwald walked straight into the master bedroom, not being bothered even the slightest that Graves was changing his shirt.

 

“I'm imprisoned by you, yes. You could have killed me, but you didn’t, yes. You let me walk around my room, yes. With all your kindness, though I’m not sure where it comes from, could I have some privacy to myself? Look, you’ve taken my skin, my wand, my position, my life. Do you mind leaving me the last decency I could have?” Graves turned back to the mirror on his wardrobe door.

 

“You’re asking too much. I might be acting like a humanist this time. But don’t push your luck, Mr. Graves.” Grindelwald stood behind him, meeting his eyes in the full-length mirror.

 

“Tell me about Tina Goldstein.”


	7. Politician's face

“Don’t you think we both need to make some concessions?” Grindelwald kneeled down in front of Graves who was cuffed to the water pipes in the bathroom. “You will have a much more comfortable life before I leave New York with my Obscurial.”

 

Graves watched himself opening his mouth and closing it, then finally squeezing out a word like someone who’s at the end of his life.

 

“How?”

 

“Now we’re talking. Here’s the deal. Instead of having to go through every detail of your tedious memories to get the information I want, I’d prefer to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth. In that case, that boring horse is you. What do you say?”

 

“This is high treason. If they find out about this…”

 

“Shush… Relax Mr. Graves. They won’t. If they were that clever, they would have already found out that the minister of Magical Law Enforcement is actually their biggest enemy, wouldn’t they?”

 

“Fine, but with one condition. I wish not to remember any of this after you leave New York. Obliviate me before you run away. Nobody should know about this.”

 

“You’re a very cautious man, Mr. Graves. Don’t want your memory to be held again you, eh? Good, I shall obliviate you before I leave. Now, welcome home, Percival.”

 

With a wave of hand, Grindelwald freed Graves and offered him a hand to help him get up.

 

///

 

They were on the two sides of the same couch, each with a glass of drink in their hands.

 

“You know, you have a politician face, Percy,” Grindelwald said with his eyes almost shut. They were both a little bit tipsy but were too proud to admit it.

 

“What politician face?” Graves put his left arm on the back of the couch casually.

 

“That face! The one you just made. The face that says, ‘I’m a hardworking, diplomatic public figure with two million cash in the safe at home. My father was the vice president. Now love me.’”

 

“No, my face doesn’t say that. You just read my memories. What about your face then? What do you think your face says about you?”

 

“That I’m a great leader trying to start a revolution to save the magic world?”

 

“You know what you just said make you sound like a lunatic, right?”

 

“Between you and me, yes,” Grindelwald said, with a slightest grin playing around his narrow lips.

 

Graves giggled.

 

“I’m very curious, tell me, what do you do besides, trying to dominate the world? You know, in your spare time, when you think, ‘I’m not doing any world-domination today. I think I’ll go to the cinema.’”

 

“Well, not exactly cinema. I read, play piano if I can find one, and maybe take a long walk, observing people on the streets.”

“Reading and piano are fine. Observing people? You make it sound like you’re bird-watching.”

 

“I am. People, birds, they are not that different.”

 

“Then, what do you see in them? Do they build their nests with twigs?”

 

“I see desires. It’s a remarkable thing to see how their desires drive them to do certain things. Some desire money. Some desire fame. Some desire love and lust.”

 

“What do you think of my desires?”

 

“Friendship.”

 

“Now, I know what you’re playing at. Don’t psychoanalyze me.”

 

“You desire close relationships with others. You crave for the unexpected surprises in life that others might bring you. Am I right? You know I’m always right.”

 

“You villains are too predictable. I know the next thing you’re going to be on about is that you give me that friendship, that unexpected surprise. Unexpected, yes. Surprise, I guess. But friendship, I don’t think so. Listen, Mr, Grindelwald, our relationship ends at the moment you have your obscurial and get the hell out of New York. I don’t seek friendship in a madman. I’m not that desperate.”

 

“Well said,” Grindelwald laughed and drank up the iced whiskey in his glass, “Although I’m slightly wounded by your pride, please consider it a one-sided friendship then. Whether taking the Oliver branch or not is your choice.”

 

///

 

“You know what people would do when they get bored?” Grindelwald suddenly appeared out of thin air behind him.

 

“What? They listen to an agitator’s tirade?” Graves didn’t even look up from the book he was holding.

 

“That’s a good choice, of course. What else do you do when you’re bored?”

 

“Trying not to get bored?”

 

“Exactly. Normally, they would want to get some shags.”

 

Graves turned around to stare at the man sitting on his couch.

 

“I’m not bored. Are you?”

 

“Well, since you asked, I have to say your daily jobs bore the shit out of me.” Grindelwald put his feet on the small coffee table in front of him.

 

“Listen, if you have to bring prostitutes home, please don’t use my face. Apart from that, you can have whatever room you like. I’m sure I have the stomach to put the whole thing behind me.”

 

“My dear Percy, who said anything about prostitutes?”

 

“No, you’re definitely not having sex with my employees. This is America, not Europe. You can’t possibly have any funny ideas about the tea ladies.”

 

“Are you being stupid or what? You know what I’m talking about. Don’t blab about the tea ladies.” Grindelwald frowned at him.

 

“I appreciate your offer, but no, thank you. As I said, I’m not that desperate.”

 

“You don’t even know what you’re turning down right now.”

 

“Grindelwald, remember what you said about my desires? I don’t desire friendship. You do.” Graves turned back to put his book back to the bookstand, “How’s your hunt for the obscurial? Ask me anything you’d like to know. Treason or not, I find myself extremely anxious to help you get it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been away from the HP community for such a long time. I was so reluctant to watch Fantastic beasts when it came out. And look what I've done. In 24 hours after I saw the movie, I've written 700 words first chapter of the Credence/Graves. keep in mind, Warner Bros, bromance gets you fans. So work hard and bring Graves back in the sequel.
> 
> And the title comes from the 1926 hit song Bye bye blackbird (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BJqO9uFzQOA)
> 
> The strange thing is, I watched two movies the night before, one is the fantastic beasts and the other one is a Dutch film called "Matterhorn" featuring a middle-class middle-aged man who's basically the plainest middle-class man you can't think of, developing a semi-gay relationship with a hobo and the man's son is gay. I know it sounds shit but the middle-classness in this man really intrigues me. This sorta like an abstinent priest thing that gets people (I mean fangirls. normal people probably won't fantasize about their pastor) crazy about. I start to wonder if the real Graves were such a plain bland boring man. I mean, Johnny Depp probably gave Graves some flamboyant elegant-villain style seductive nature. It would make sense that the real Graves is a boring hard-working bureaucrat. I mean, look at his office! Is that a diplomatic charming stylish person's office? No, I think not. It's clean, boring, like a file-keeper's office. Actually, thanks to the fancy clothes the costume designers put Colin in, he looks like a villain from the start. The real Graves probably won't wear something that intricate and fancy, which basically tell the audience "look at me, I'm the bad guy with good tastes in this movie just like any Bond villains"
> 
> Anyway, I'm only trying to make some sense of my fantasy about an abstinent Graves. I'm desperate to write some unrequited shit.


End file.
